Slings and Arrows2003

Cyril:
[about Geoffrey] He's doing the rounds. He saw the Chekov on Tuesday. He was at the Dream last night.

Frank:
No!

Cyril:
Yeah. There he was. Third raw from the back. Head burried in his hands like he lost a brother in the war.

Frank:
Crikey. He wouldn't recast, would he?

Cyril:
Not the Dream, no. But God knows what he'll do with Oliver's Hamlet. Play the lead himself.

Frank:
You think?

Cyril:
Oh, why not? It was the play that drow him mad. Seven years ago. I saw it all with me own eyes. Halfway through the gravedigger scene he suddenly went all quiet and pale.

Frank:
He went off?

Cyril:
Off his nut. Then he leaped.

Frank:
Leaped?

Cyril:
Into the grave, Ducky. Into Ophelia's bloody grave. Leaving Horatio and Laertes staring down into the hole as if they just made a wish.

Frank:
Crikey.

Cyril:
Crikey indeed. Then he went screaming out into the night, mad as a hatter.

Frank:
Well, he's been to hospital. Had treatments. Maybe he's better.

Cyril:
Or maybe he's worse. Hey up. Here she comes.

Geoffrey Tennant:
Carlsberg. [looks at Oliver's skull] Two Carlsberg.

Frank:
Crikey.

Cyril:
Bloody hell.